


Frost Fall

by furrywing



Category: Silverwing - Kenneth Oppel
Genre: Adventure, Bats, Cannibalism, Gen, Multi, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:59:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furrywing/pseuds/furrywing
Summary: A stormy night, where all tales should begin, a lost bat takes shelter in the refuge of a cathedral. Discovered by travelers Shade and Marina, Sparrow joins them on their search for Hibernaculum, but when they meet up with two carnivorous bats Shade begins to wonder if Sparrow is their friend or another terrible foe.





	1. A Quiet Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of sorts, taking elements from the show and novel (ex. Shade's inquisitive personality and critical thinking make a much needed return) and it cuts out a lot of the show's filler. They're joined by my original character, Sparrow, a hoary bat (Greywing) they find on the way. After a bit of joking I wanted to challenge myself to tackle the trope of 'What would this story be like if I threw this one extra person in? What would change?' 
> 
> This nonsense is the result. 
> 
> Updates hopefully every week. I try to accompany each chapter with fan art.

A dull ache still thrummed in Shade's wing, leaving him irritable and prone to snapping, but it did nothing to dampen his eagerness to move on. Sure Zephyr's lessons were interesting, they might even become critically useful and in different circumstances he would have wanted nothing more than to learn about this strange world he was born into. Even the human music washing up into the cathedral's hidden rafters was compelling and, he thought, even heart wrenching. Shade wanted to follow Marina, to visit the humans again and listen to their lilting song.

Opening an eye, he saw her bustling around with Zephyr, sorting piles of dried herbs the older bat had gathered during the autumn. One such herb, ground into a poultice, had been rubbed onto an ugly tear in his wing membrane, and was currently the only thing standing between Shade and the desperate pursuit for his colony. Zephyr explained that it would fight any infections, the sickness that could rot his wing right off, so he put up with it. The faster he healed, the faster they could leave.

He was lucky to have these wings, he remembered, stomach churning. Barely a night ago, pigeons had tried to viciously peck them off. “Crawl back to warn your colony,” they'd told him. Earthbound forever. Doomed to starvation. Pure hatred burned in him, like the fire that had consumed his home.

 _But we escaped_ , he thought. _Because we were smarter than those stupid birds._

Now if only he could sleep.

Then he heard it, through a pause in the human song, a murmur from below.

“Huh?”

Marina and Zephyr were silently working, not even muttering to themselves. Shade dropped down to the next beam, claws gripping the wood tightly. He cast an echo into the darkness.

“Marina,” he said nervously. “There's something down here.” Shade's attention snapped back to the shadows left by each wooden rafter, lest the thing, whatever it was, come alive and strike. “What if it's another pigeon, spying on us?”

“You're seeing shadows. You see enemies everywhere, Shade. Just rest already.”

Another murmur. Shade descended again. This time he could hear it clearly: a raspy, shuddering breath, and see it, definitely winged.

“Let us see what Shade sees,” Zephyr said. “Go on.”

Zephyr’s curiosity unnerved the young bats, yet also offered some comfort. If he saw the future, then he saw what waited for them and surely it was harmless. Marina unfurled her wings, landing on the final rafter, a story above the shadow.

“Oh, no,” she said, wincing. “It is a bird, isn't it?”

“I can't really see- she's a bat!”

“Never underestimate the power of a kind act, even to those who you imagine are your enemies. You two carry her up,” Zephyr said, dropping between them. “It looks like she may have hit her head.”


	2. Ave Maria

 

They were touching her. Two pairs of feet were tangled in her mane and pulling her up into the air and away from the chill stony floor.

 She could hear their whispery, nervous voices, and an eerie and melodic din that came from far away. Then warmth beneath her, a soft bed of leaves on the rafters glimpsed as she'd slammed through the cracked window. Vague the scent of wood smoke, unexpected. And fat burning, not unpleasant though it unpleasantly reminded her of her empty stomach. Very close was the musk of dried herbs and distant the growl of traffic.

 Sparrow kept her expression relaxed, intent on listening to they might say while they perceived her as unconscious. After all, they'd demonstrated no hints of aggression, so appearing helpless wasn't an urgent risk. But the group moved very far off, and their whispering was no longer audible.

“... did pigeons try to capture her?”

Shuffling, scratching very near, her eyes snapped open and she whirled toward the noise, pulling her stomach muscles as she did. Beside her, a tiny silver furred bat jumped back.

They were in a vast chamber, the bowels of the cathedral's towers, surrounded by its wooden skeleton of looming beams and stonework. About two stories below, light shone through hundreds of panes of coloured glass, held in place by a metal framework describing sun drops and roses. The brilliant blue light reflected up into the chamber. Another half story up, pink light radiated through a series of narrow holes.

In that lower window, Sparrow's body had cracked through a tiny, weakened pane. She should have been killed in an instant. Instead she'd only been rattled senseless. Or so she thought.

“Just rest here,” a gentle voice said behind her. A bat, white as the moon, pressed a reassuring wing tip into her chest so that she settled back into the spongy bed of spruce boughs and leaves.

“When you are ready to talk, we'll be here for you,” he said. A strong but serene voice, if a bit gravelly. He was probably more on in years than he looked. “These two have gone through a trial themselves.”

She tried to smile but found she couldn't.

“That's Ave Maria,” she said, eyes finding his. Strange, his eyes, a clouded grey that looked beyond her.

Fur bright like sunlight, sweet smile, another girl hopped up to her. “Is that your name?”

“It's the music below us.”

Nudging his friend aside, the smallest of the group leaned toward her. “Do you know what they're saying?” The voice who'd asked about the pigeons.

“... Yes. Some of it.”

“So...”

“Oh. You want to hear it. It's something like:

Ave Maria, maiden mild

Oh, listen to a maiden's prayer

For you can hear amid the wild

It's you, it's you, can save amid despair

We slumber safely till the morrow.”

“Zephyr, doesn't it sounds a lot like it might be about Nocturna? Do you think the humans sing about Nocturna too?”

“We can't know. The humans are mysterious. Their motives and meanings are often unclear.”

“My name's Sparrow.”

“I’m Marina,” the bright furred girl said. “This little bat is Shade.”

“Do you know what the humans mean?” Shade asked anxiously, but Zephyr touched his shoulder.

“Let us let her rest.”

“I’m alright. I was just sleeping,” Sparrow said. “It's just a story, but I don't know what it's trying to say.”

“Do humans sing their stories?” Shade asked.

“They do,” Sparrow said. “Same as bats.”

“Since we're now all awake, you can join us in our lesson. I was going to show these two how to echo project. That is to say, make images with their voices,” Zephyr said. “But first let me look at your wing. Though if a bone is broken, I'm afraid there's little I can do.”

“I can fly.”

“I can hear how it hurts to move, this can help with the pain,” Zephyr said, bustling over to leaves hung from the rafters to dry.

“Don't worry. Seeing this magic will keep my mind clear,” Sparrow said. Herbs for pain. It seemed like something that might fog her mind or make her utter nonsense that might not be remembered after. Neither she wanted.

“It's not magic,” Zephyr said kindly. “We shape the world around us with sound.”

Sparrow eased herself up. “Only other bats can see this then, can't they?”

“Very good observation. You're right. We see with sound, unlike other creatures. So children, don't think you could use this on an owl.”

They gathered together, Sparrow watching from her make shift bed, Shade and Marina sitting beside each other but giving Sparrow space, Zephyr gesturing as he spoke.

“To echo project, you take an object and let it fill your mind. Don't see it just in your imagination. You must learn to see the object as it truly is. When you have it, sing it, give it form just as you would shape an echo if you were hunting. Like this!”

Zephyr hummed. A plump and fluffy pigeon swooped over their heads, slammed into the wall and vanished.

Shade and Marina exchanged glances, then Shade pressed his wings against his ears, the peculiar clicks of sonar echoes filling the air before his face.

“Can you see it?” he asked, eyes still shut tight.

“See what?”

“A giant bat like the gargoyles, with huge teeth!”

“That would be, uh, no,” Marina said.

Zephyr smiled. “Don't try to speak while you're doing it and try something smaller, like a leaf. Something familiar that you intimately know.”

Again Shade closed his eyes, rigid in concentration. This time the air shimmered and a foggy blob of some sort wiggled and squirmed before vanishing. Marina giggled and his eyes flew open.

“Well done, Shade!” Zephyr cried. Shade glowed under his praise.

Better than nothing, anyway.

“It has to last longer, be scarier!”

“Scarier than a leaf,” Marina laughed.

“Keep patience close to your heart,” Zephyr said. “It's true that you cannot use your size to overpower what might seek to hurt you, and deception can help you, but echo projection is much more than a combat tactic. It is like the sound maps your mothers sing to you, so that you know the migration route. Echoes carry our history.”

“Frieda showed me the echo chamber in my nursery roost," Shade said hesitantly. "I could hear... voices. All around, all speaking together. Is that the same thing?”

“It's different, but all connected,” Zephyr said. “Nocturna's given us many gifts, but not all of them are easy to discover.”

Shade nodded, and closed his eyes again, and in the silence Sparrow’s mind traveled back.

There had been nothing but sound a mere three nights ago. A senseless, endless roar of a storm.

That night, ice rain hammered the tops of buildings, fogged the crystal-like clarity of windows, downed trees, and battered her like a fragile leaf. She’d wanted badly to skirt around the city because among the lights and the raccoons and the owls and the towers of concrete there seemed to be no reprieve. Multiple button houses, old human dwellings, she explored hastily and was startled away again and again. They reeked of cats and poison, keeping her from warmth that emanated from chimneys.

Then a midnight blackened by hail stones large as currants crept upon the humans’ city, rendering her all but deaf, and Sparrow reached a limit. A gust of wind buckled her wings, tossing her into an out of control spin.

Before she knew it, she’d rested her chin on her wrists once more, drifted away from the present conversation. The magic that was not magic, that Zephyr explained to them.

“I’m sorry. If it’s not a lot of trouble to ask, could you go over that with us again?”

“Of course,” Zephyr said without reluctance. “Let me know if I speak too quickly.”

The second time Sparrow’s attention held and Shade, with much riot and celebration, managed to manifest a crisp leaf that even did a bit of a dance before he lost concentration and it unraveled with a hum.

“Very good, Shade! Take a break now. You could pick some nettle from the alley for me, but keep you ears open.”

Still grinning, Shade flared his wings.

“Would you like to come with us, Sparrow?”

“If it's not rude, I just want to rest.” She flexed her index finger, it still felt off, heavy and swollen.

Gesturing at the exit with his chin, Zephyr saw the pair off into the blinding lights of the city. When they were gone he turned to Sparrow and crouched beside her. As he did she could see the ache being on the ground brought him, the stretch of old muscles and stiff joints.

“Are you ready to tell me your story?” As gently as he asked, a soft voice filled with compassion, it set her fur on end; it felt intrusive in spite of its empathy.

“I don't have a story to tell.”

“I remember,” she added quickly, cutting off any concerns about her physical health, like the throbbing headache fading her. “There just isn't anything to tell.”

“Could I help you find your colony? Shade and Marina are on a similar journey. They were separated from their families by tragedy, but I know they will find each other again. They will be following the stars south.”

“Hoary- my people don't have colonies. Being alone isn't strange. I do need somewhere to live for the winter. How old are those two?”

“Hoarywings... interesting. You're not from the Northern Forests.”

“How old are those two to be traveling alone?”

“Shade and Marina are children to me, but very near adulthood to you.”

“I see.”

“Are you sure you don’t want anything for the pain? It does look like it may be cracked-”

“No. Zephyr, why are you here?”

“Hmm, I watch out for the colonies, guide them on their migrations, predict dangers they might cross flights with. Many pass through the human's city and use this cathedral as a landmark.”

“So you will not migrate?” His answer meant everything to her. Maybe she didn't need to migrate either. Maybe she could find a place in the city, in some human place, and rest safely, forget her troubles until spring allowed her to continue her search.

“Everything I need, I have here,” he said, gesturing to the spire. It did seem like a cozy, if hectic, sort of life. Injured bats might not even be uncommon, if the city was such a pivotal location for the local population, and Zephyr would surely be someone locals would seek for aid and refuge. Why else collect such a large volume of supplies?

“I believe it may be my destiny to protect others when the world could not protect me,” he said.

“You hear everyone that passes over here?”

“I do.”

“Did you hear me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparrow would totally be dead smashing through a cathedral window, but let's just pretend. 
> 
> The poem ‘Ave Maria’ holds a very interesting place, as while it is often used in church choir its meaning is often changed or in a different context than the original poem. Given the wide variation interpretations, I thought the tone could also be misinterpreted with Nocturna’s mythology so I picked it as what the humans sing in Zephyr’s cathedral.
> 
> Our adventure begins! Who will they meet next?


	3. Greywing

 

One street across from the cathedral, Shade and Marina descended into an alley flanked by squat brick buildings. Marina roosted on a box of metal, reeking and brimming with human refuse, attention flicking between Shade and the open air.

At the alley’s edge an overgrown and forlorn patch of garden, almost like a tiny meadow, fought for dominance against the sprawl of the city. Marina surveyed the garden, then pointed.

There at the edge of a path were the remains of their quarry: a frost burned clump of nettle that trembled in the slight wind. Shade dropped beside the plant, grasping it in his claws and giving it a hard yank.

“Keeping watch?”

“Yeah,” Marina said, somewhat absently. She was watching Shade struggle with the stubbornly rooted plant. “What do think of that strange bat? Why didn’t Zephyr notice she was there before you?”

“Maybe he wanted us to find her? He is blind, though. He might not have noticed.”

“But he should have heard.”

Shade shrugged. What did it matter, really? She was lost just like them. Tomorrow night his wing would be healed and then he and Marina would part ways with the cathedral and its peculiar inhabitants. His mother, his colony, the only things that truly mattered.

One more pull and the stem would snap, surely. Shade cursed himself. If only he were bigger, then these tasks wouldn’t be such a bother. His head was still spinning from the exertion of echo projection and when he closed his eyes all he could see was the same quaking beech leaf. Still, Shade beamed. One in a million bats could echo project and he was one of them. Oh, Chinook would be so jealous when he showed him! When he came back with tales of braving the raging ocean, of solving the riddle of his mother's Sound Map alone, of daring escapes from pigeons and owls...

A shiver ran down Shade's spine, as if something watched him. When he turned there was nothing save the misty garden. Marina continued to observe the sky and cast regular echoes into the shadows. So attentive was she on her task that she didn’t even notice him turn. But the feeling unnerved Shade. Better not to linger longer than necessary.

_Crawl back to your colony,_ he heard the pigeons say again.

With another solid yank, the nettle's stem snapped at the base and Shade gathered the withered branch in his claws. Time to go. The sensation of being watched was now a tingling itch on his skin and a restless ache in his wing.

A strangled cry from Marina. Shade whirled around. A screech like a hail storm ripping through the canopy blasted his face, the moon eyes of a barn owl looming over him, wings half open.

Swinging wildly Shade slapped the owl across the face with the nettle, the force of motion knocking him onto his bad. Another hiss. The bird would cut them down, he’d given them maybe a few precious seconds.

Marina gasped; Shade opened his eyes.

Before him the air shimmered, there was a dim reverberation and the owl vanished. Dancing and chuckling from a low hanging light Zephyr cast a ghostly shadow on the wall.

“What do you think?”

“You?” Shade picked himself up, aware of how undignified he must look, trying to settle the thump of his panicked heart. “It was so real! It even screeched at me!”

“I see you managed to get that nettle,” Zephyr said, smiling.

Together they returned to the cathedral, resting in the jaws of a gargoyle, the entrance to Zephyr's roost.

“The stars must be beautiful tonight,” Zephyr said, taking the nettle from Shade.

It was a beautiful night, but under a strange sky. Stars that normally shone bright on a dark background were here matched by the ambiance of the humans' artificial lights. They'd turned the sky pink. Perhaps the humans preferred it that way.

Looking up and far away, Zephyr turned his head just as a star fell.

It couldn't be possible, could it?

“You can hear a star?”

“I can only sense it if I feel the world with clear emotion.”

Shade seemed to shake the thought out of his head, curiosity momentarily abated by opportunity. If Zephyr could sense something that far away...

“Can you sense what is happening to my colony?”

Zephyr's ears twitched and turned, he muttered, describing incoherent fragments of the actions of bats all over the city, perhaps even as far as the forest and farmland beyond.

“So many colonies, so much interference.”

But Zephyr's face began to fall, filling with concern.

“ _Something is wrong_. Very wrong,” he said, jerking back.

Shade lunged toward him, heart pounding. “What happened? Where are they?”

“In the valley, south of this city.”

Suddenly, his wing felt much better, almost forgotten. What was one more night of rest? He didn't need it.

“I have to warn them!”

“Be careful,” Zephyr said without protest. “Owls hate the city, but they are surely in the skies.”

Without another word, Shade dropped into open air, Marina's wing tips brushing his own.

 

***

 

From the depths of the gargoyle's jaws, Sparrow watched their anxiety unfold with interest, conflicted about her options. Could she ask Zephyr to stay? Thrive on the food humans left and the familiar music they sung? Or would the things humans had to offer be akin to making a deal with malign spirits?

As she fell, Sparrow heard Zephyr whisper, “May your vision stay clear.”

Then he was gone.

Pain finally exploded across her injured wing, like lightning shooting through her forefinger, sending throbbing heat up her arm with every beat. Gasping, she held the air like water, embracing the texture and flow, compensating her ragged flight pattern as much as possible. The two bats weren't far ahead but they were voraciously eating distance. Soon they might drop beneath the skyline to escape detection and then she'd lose her chance forever.

“Hold on! Marina! Please wait for me!”

Marina turned. “Sparrow?”

“Can I come? Come with you?”

“But what about your own colony?” Shade asked.

“You haven't migrated before, have you?”

“I- of course I've migrated before-”

“ _Shade_ ,” Marina said.

“Alright, alright. So I'm new at this, so what? You're no different and I've got the Sound Map.”

“At least I've migrated once.”

“With your _parents_ ,” he shot back.

Sparrow sighed. This was not the conversation she'd meant to inspire.

“I've migrated without help. I know the stars well. We go the same way. I don't need to come all the way, I just I don't want to travel alone. Not the whole way home.”

“You don't need to prove your value to come with us,” Marina said.

“Yeah, don't be silly,” Shade said.

“We'll be a trio of lost souls.” Laughing, Marina dropped away, dodging the city lights. “Last bat out of the city's a rotten beetle!”

Their race lasted only a few minutes, before Marina had to wait for Shade and Sparrow to catch up with her. When they rejoined one another they spent the evening chatting idly, Shade describing Tree Haven and his mother, even the other children who bullied him for being born a runt. It was probably the hundredth time for Marina, and Sparrow expected it would not be the last for her. But they listened patiently and Marina's attention was always caught by Shade's description of Frieda, his colony's elder. They seemed to avoid why Marina was so interested in meeting Frieda. Perhaps the older bat could help her find the Brightwings again, or allow Marina to stay at Hibernaculum for the winter. When Shade exhausted his pool of tales, Marina animatedly retold of her adventures on her island, a place free from most birds, with good hunting and where she had even planned to risk hibernating.

“Humans sometimes came there in the hot summer but I didn't see them often,” she said. “I guess I would've been lonely if there wasn't so much to do. Have you ever seen an orca?”

“The whales? Yes.”

“We rode on the water they breathe out!”

Sounded dangerous, Sparrow thought.

By now a black band of forest spanned the horizon, sloping away from the city. Not long now and they'd been back into the familiar comfort of the wilderness. If only she had managed to go around the city, she'd be there now.

But then she'd still be alone.

“Did your colony leave you behind?”

Sparrow frowned, unsure what to say. “Not really. I am looking for someone but I don't really have-”

“The Silverwings!” Shade cried, taking off like a hail stone. Coming up along the edge of the lights, a mass of wings weaved together, flanked by what appeared to be scouts keeping some distance between themselves and the overwhelming number of bats now filling the sky. Marina giggled, leaping through the air with abandon, her eyes alight.

But halfway toward the colony, Shade stopped and slumped.

“It's not them,” he whispered.

And it wasn't. They were bigger than Shade of course, being a runt, but also much larger than Marina, with fur fringing their dark wings and specks of white in their manes. One of the scouts banked toward the trio and Marina receded with all her hope and the spark of relief folding into darkness.

“Hey there!” the scout shouted sternly. “You lot lost?”

“In a storm. I'm looking for-”

“Silverwings, of course,” he cut in.

“Yeah,” Shade said.

As quick as it had been kindled all the joy had been blown out of Shade. The scout smiled, and touched Shade's shoulder.

“I'm sure you'll find them,” he said.

“Yeah...”

Another bat banked back towards them, coming up on their flank. A larger bat than the other scout, expression tense with small, glittering eyes.

“I don't recognize you,” she said to Sparrow, squinting. “I didn't know there were other Greywings in these parts. Do you know her, Remiel?”

“Never seen her before,” he said, frowning.

“You're welcome to travel with us, Greywing.” the second scout said.

But Remiel suddenly hissed, throwing himself away from them.

“ _A band_.”

Marina cowered. Shade was taken aback looking between Marina's wrist and the scouts. “So what?”

“She's cursed,” Remiel spat. “You're foolish to travel with her.”

“You're scared of a bit of metal?” Sparrow asked.

“She has been touched by the humans,” he growled, his fur raised and teeth bared. He would chase them off, Sparrow knew, if they came too close. His companion hung back behind him. “If you want to come with us, then leave her.”

“No,” Shade said.

“Suit yourself.” He turned to Sparrow. “You're one of us. You are still welcome to come.”

Hesitating, Sparrow banked away from Marina as the Greywings turned to rejoin their families. Halfway between here and there, Sparrow paused and in surprise the scouts waited.

“I have no family anymore,” she said. “Just whatever kindness strangers give me. A piece of metal, you're worried about?”

“She's been marked by the humans. You'd be safer to leave her.”

“I had no one once.”

“If that is what you prefer,” they said together, resigned.

“Good luck and fair skies, sister,” the second scout said. “Maybe we will meet one day again under better circumstances. Keep Polaris at your back, and look to the east.”

Remiel closed his eyes and Sparrow felt a song fill her head, smothering every other thought and sense until she felt herself falling into the sound. His song carried her over meadows and along the coast of a small inland lake, an ancient dam of beavers, shifting over rocky foothills, skirting a human city and rigid gliders, crossing a ravine, and then, somehow, focusing on distant Polaris.

When Remiel's Sound Map was complete, his eyes snapped open.

“A gift,” he said.

And then they were gone, an exchange of frail smiles and nervous eyes. After awhile, she heard the wingbeats of Shade and Marina as they joined her again and Sparrow realized she'd been hanging in the air alone, in silence.

“We thought you were going to go with them,” Shade said.

“You shouldn't lose an opportunity for me. You can still catch up. We'll be fine.”

Sparrow could hear the hurt in Marina's trembling voice, piercing her own heart.

“Only some myths are worth believing in. Dawn soon. Where would you like to spend the day?”

“Zephyr said my colony is in danger, in the southern valley. We might still be able to catch up.”

“Birds will be more and more watchful after those 'giant bat' myths, speaking of myths,” Marina said.

“Giant bats?”

“Oh, yes,” Marina laughed, though condescension rang clear in her voice. She spread her wings wide. “Giant pigeon eating monsters in the city. _Roar!_ You better dash before I dine, little bird! I don't think pigeons are very bright.”

“Probably saw the gargoyles at Zephyr's cathedral and got scared.”

“Strange,” Sparrow said.

Marina scoffed. “They'll make any excuse to persecute us, it doesn't matter how real it is. No bat is big enough to kill a pigeon even if they are empty headed sacks of feathers.”

An hour passed quietly, silence broken by the occasional crunch of a hard shelled beetle or the whine of a mosquito's wings. They'd left the monstrous, glowing towers behind and even the smaller human dwellings were beginning to thin out. Sparrow recognized sprawling warehouses and a shipping yard where trucks came and went despite the early hour. The windows of squat houses and short towers were lit every few minutes as the humans within began to stir. Soon the dawn chorus would come. They needed speed. They needed Shade to relent.

Marina, however, was limping.

“Are you hurt?” Sparrow moved closer. “You’re flying awkwardly.”

“Oh. I didn’t notice. I used try and hide my-” Marina shook her head. “It’s not important.”

“Alright. But you know the metal on your wrist is not worth hiding.”

“You don’t think it’s a curse?”

“No.”

“You don't think my wing will rot off? Or I'll burst into flame like those other Greywings? Like... like my family did.”

“If it cuts into your skin and gets infected maybe your wing would rot off.”

“That is a curse,” Marina said, pulling away.

With a burst of speed Sparrow cut in front of her.

“It's like my forefinger. If I’m not careful, I might be lame one day and unable to fly. Keep it clean and you will be safe. All things have their own needs.”

“If you’re worried about your wing maybe we should fly slower,” Marina said, but Sparrow looked ahead with a shrug, where the tiny Shade was already labouring in flight. And still, that dawn chorus.

“Shade is anxious to catch up. Don’t worry.”

“We should be flying low anyway, so the owls don't see us,” Marina said.

Then it descended as if from the aether. Feathers filled their vision, blasting them aside, and Shade screamed. When the girls righted themselves he was being taken, crushed between the cruel, razor talons on an owl.

“Marina!”

“Shade!”

The owl dived.

“It's too fast! We have to think of something-”

“But _what_?”

Their lungs burned and Sparrow could see their chests heaving in the reflections made by the glass of industrial buildings. The owl weaved, careless, between the buildings and towards the shipping yard and open air. Unconcerned with their pursuit.

Sparrow winked at her own reflection, studying it. There was a small chance, though it might kill Shade in the process. “Trick it into smashing a window.”

“Don't even joke about-”

Darkness fell over them, blotting out the sky again. An impossibly large shadow cast beneath the coming glow of dawn.

“No,” Marina whispered.

Sparrow gasped.

The owl turned at the rumble of laughter.

“ _Hola_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fdhhfkhg we have arrived.  
> I love him so damn much. But who in this tiny fandom does not love Goth, I wonder. Both versions of him are great. Oppel is dark, Bardel is funny and I'm living for it.


	4. Only For A Day

 

 

Laughter erupted into pure and unadulterated glee as the owl and the giant connected, throwing each other towards the rooftops.

Shade tumbled, spinning out of control on a wild descent as Marina raced to catch him while the fight escalated.

Talons that should rake across the bat’s face and chest didn’t rend flesh and muscle, always missing by a hair when he twisted aside or rolled away, wings folded, and then with a few powerful beats dropped on it again.

Powerful jaws closed on the owl’s wing, splintering it and the owl screamed.

But it refused to give in and the bat refused to give it any oppurtunity, driving the bird into the human’s glass suns, each exploding, shearing feathers from the owl’s back before blinking out forever. He did this like it was effortless. Like it was nothing.

The bird was fading, its eyes glazing with pain, and when it hit the concrete the force of the fall snapped its neck.

Sparrow fluttered onto a caged and rumbling vent, watching the stranger tear a strip of flesh from the dead bird, red smearing across its pale feathers and leaking onto the cold stone. Swooping from behind, a more ragged giant jittered impatiently for a share. Alarmed, Sparrow leapt off the vent to usher Marina and Shade away just as they reached the rooftop, and the sound caused the two strangers to pause and join her on the other side, the gruesome remains tucked safely away.

“Ah, tiny bats. Do you think they can understand-”

“We understand you fine,” Sparrow said.

“Forgive me,” the large bat said, bowing his head. His tongue slid across his teeth, clearing away some of the owl's blood and he smiled.

Marina added distance between herself and the strange, violent travelers. Gargoyles come to life, just as the pigeons feared.

“I am Goth. This sad creature is my brother-in-law, Throbb.”

“I’m Shade, and this is Marina and Sparrow.”

Still stealing discreet glances at the newcomers, Marina flinched at the sound of her name.

“We are new to these lands. Torn away from our home.”

“Us too!” Shade beamed.

“We have much in common,” Goth said. “We are hoping to fly home, but we cannot read these northern stars. We need help to navigate, and it seems we cannot turn to other species for aid.”

“You could travel with us! We're heading south too, looking for my colony.”

Marina’s elbow slammed into his gut. “Shade!”

“What? It's true.”

“We're delighted for your hospitality,” he said, bowing once more. Smiling, but he was watching his brother-in-law, and Sparrow couldn’t be sure who the smile was for, only that it was uncomfortable, like some inside joke she couldn't understand. “Allow us to repay you by offering our protection. It's clear these owls have no respect for the people they share the sky with.”

Shade's eyes lit up, body humming with restless anticipation. They could make better time with escorts this powerful, be less on edge.

“So,” Goth said, “Where next?”

Pointing to the faded stars of a polluted sky, Shade grinned.

“We follow this star until the city is out of sight and then the Sound Map that my mother sang to me will show us the way.”

“Aw, lead on then my friend,” Goth said spreading wings that could have filled the night.

And with a final, mournful look towards the crumpled owl, they took to the skies, angling south, with the humans’ lights at their tails.

 

***

“How do you little bats survive this cold?” Goth asked after a luckless hour browsing in the open forest, scavenging insects while seeking any signs of the Silverwings. The windswept maple Goth clung to sagged under his weight and he dropped to a lower, sturdier branch that put him at eye level with Shade. “Where we are from it is warm and sunny all year round. The trees aren't ugly like this. Makes a bat grow to a reasonable size.”

He laughed with abandon, flaring his wings their full three foot span. “As a prince I am a magnificent specimen, even by my colony’s standards. But that’s to be expected.”

Leaning in to Sparrow’s ear, Marina hissed playfully. “Imagine being that full of yourself.”

“I ain't complaining,” she hissed back.

“You're impressed!”

“No!”

“Aw, admit it!”

Sparrow batted her away. “Alright, alright. Look at Shade before you go judging me. I think his soul might be about to leave his body.”

“Oh yeah. He's really sensitive about his size, you know.”

“Doesn't realize he'll grow eventually, does he?”

“Not _that_ much.”

“That would be-”

“Frightening. It would be frightening,” Marina said, suddenly quite serious. “He'd probably kill Brutus himself.”

“The sadist owl you mentioned?”

Growing ever more curious, Marina moved closer to the conversation.

“How did you end up so far from home?” she asked.

“The, hmm, royal guard was not acting with its ears wide open,” Goth said, catching Throbb in the corner of his eye. “The day the humans captured us, banded us, and brought us here to be imprisoned. I see you were also taken prisoner by those repulsive humans, senorita. Aw, common ground, it grows like the jungle vines.”

Sparrow’s attention peaked. How far north had they been carried by the whims of humans?

“What’s a jungle?” Shade asked.

“A jungle?” Goth laughed, wings snapping open again. “A jungle is an explosion of colour born in the heat and the sun! We live as we choose in _our_ jungle, with the warmth on our wings and our bellies never empty. We eat only the most succulent of small birds, the tastiest of lizards, and other small animals.”

And he snapped his teeth a hair from Shade’s nose.

Shade laughed, jumping back.

“Enough about me. What about you?”

“Oh well, hah! We Silverwings live as we choose to too. Like the rule that bats can’t look at the sun? Well I did! Even if the owls didn’t like it.”

“ _Didn’t like it_?" Marina snapped.  "They burned down your roost!”

Even though Shade had retold the event countless times now, Sparrow hated to think of it. That there was no loss of life was nothing short of miraculous and she had the same idle thought Shade had. What if all animals stole fire from the humans? What if a bat crept quietly into the nests of owls?

“Why did your males not save you?” Goth asked.

“They weren't-”

“A hundred tiny bats against a flock of owls?” Chuckling quietly, Sparrow fluttered towards Goth, dropping beside him. “You can think critically, can't you?”

“She’s right. We’re too little. We were getting ready to migrate to Stonehold, to join the males, when our roost was burned down. I hate the owls almost as much as I hate the Treaty!”

“Treaty?”

“Basically, the bats were punished for not taking sides in the Battle of the Birds and the Beasts. That’s why we have to fly at night.”

“Nonsense mythology,” Sparrow growled. “Of something that happened outside of memory. It doesn’t bind you in the south, does it?”

Goth shook his head, eyes fixed on Shade. Of course, what did he have to fear? No owl could harm him or his colony. No bird could dare bring fire to the home of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of these giants.

“I could bring some of my people north, to end this persecution-”

“You would not make the flight north, if you even make it south,” Sparrow said, blinking serenely.

“Do you enjoy the company of this cynic? Though, it does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it? Bats afraid to fly in the sun. You must have been very brave to defy the owls. Your father must be very proud.”

Shade smiled, but it was a flicker of pride that opened an old wound and Goth looked for a moment like he regretted the platitude.

“I don’t have a father. Cassiel, my dad, disappeared while scouting one night. They say the owls got him.”

“A boy without a father,” Goth said, a wing over Shade’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Shade.”

For awhile they lapsed into silence, wordlessly taking to the sky again.

Maybe Goth was what Shade needed, Sparrow thought after some time, watching them flying together, eventually chatting idly about the Goth's homeland as if Shade might visit it somenight. Something neither Marina nor Sparrow could give him, someone to fill the space left by his father, even if perhaps just the role of an older brother. Goth could provide that, for now.

But Shade was very young, very impressionable, and the spectral bat was young himself. He didn't see far enough into the future. He didn't see the long lasting consequences his choices would leave behind in the north.

 

***

As the glow of the city faded, the countryside opened into a large swath of forest devoid of human interference. A dawn chorus swelled in tempo by the time Sparrow returned from her scout for shelter and so with faltering wings and tired eyes they swept into a low cavern at the edge of the escarpment, Goth and Throbb barely squeezing through the entrance. Sparrow's echoes swept the chamber a second time, and she landed on an outcrop just large enough to fit her, Shade, and Marina.

“I'm tired, I'm going to sleep,” Marina said loudly, her voice echoing around the cavern, but her whispers tickled Sparrow's ear. “We should all talk. When our voices won't travel.”

Later and blessed by good fate, nightfall brought ideal conditions for covert conversations, a headwind that carried their voices away from the spectral bats deep in their own one side conversation. Primarily, Throbb's whining.

Even Shade, who'd spent the last of twilight listening to Goth's tales, dropped back to join the girls. Marina glared, almost as if she planned to tell him off, but turned to Sparrow instead flying as tightly as possible so that their wing tips brushed every few beats.

“What did you see?” Marina hissed. “Why did you wave me off?”

“To see what they had done to the owl.”

“We know they killed it.”

“It looked horrible. Ripped apart.”

Shuddering, Marina’s attention returned to the valley.

“There's no sign of my colony,” Shade said.

“Then they must have moved on. We'll find them,” Marina said. “But there's the other thing.”

“Other thing?”

“Traveling with carnivorous bats. Don't you see a problem with that, Shade?”

“No, why should I?”

“They could be dangerous,” Sparrow added.

“Didn't Zephyr _just_ tell us not to think someone is an enemy so quickly? They're bats and they're lost, just like us.”

“Yes, but, you saw them kill that owl like it was nothing,” Marina insisted.

“It tried to kill us first! Besides, we eat bugs. That probably grosses them out. They're living things too.”

“It's hardly the same! You're a bit older than us,” she told Sparrow. “What do you think?”

“Let them, what did he say? 'Offer our protection',” Sparrow said in a high pitched mockery of Goth. “But we watch them.”

“Your wing's not looking so good,” she said, even the thought sending a spike of pain down Sparrow's swollen fingers. She wished Marina would stop reminding her.

“It’ll be fine after some sleep.”

“I think we’ve reach the southern valley,” Shade said.

Goth appeared with Throbb, the tail of a rat disappearing into the smaller bat’s mouth.

Beating his wings as hard as he could, Shade rose vertically to capture an image of the entire quiet, lonely valley.

“How are we ever gonna find your colony, Shade?”

“You know,” Goth said, breezing by Marina, “migration is such a strange part of your culture. How do you remember the way?”

“I've a Sound Map my mother sang to me but it's hard to know what it means sometimes. It's flashes of images.”

“Not a Star Map? Interesting. Perhaps you could see this map and we can figure it out together?”

Strangling a gasp before it could be heard, Marina’s eyes bore into Shade longing for his attention, to stop him before it was too late, but the Silverwing’s eyes were already closed, he was already letting song fill his head.

“Focus, Shade,” Goth said, soft as breath.

“The cathedral we passed, this valley. I see light- fire! Coming out of thin branches, except they're vertical. It's like towers of fire.”

“Not so hard. You've given us something to work with, Shade,” Goth said, brimming with what might be ambition or what might be brotherly pride. Yet quick as it came, his nose caught a new scent and his attention turned. “Hmm, please excuse us. The food here is... not worth wasting.”

Grinning with abundant glee, together the two bats dropped away.

Marina swung around, teeth bared. “How could you just blurt out your Sound Map like that? I told you the Maps are secrets of each colony when we were on the island!”

“You know,” Shade said, shoving his face into hers, “sometimes I feel like you were on that island so long you don't know how to trust a friend.”

“Better friendless than this clueless!” She flung herself higher, putting more distance between them. But Shade had already turned away.

 

***

“Why do you think the humans band us?” Shade asked, curiosity putting him in better spirits.

“Envy. Human arrogance,” Goth said, spitting as if 'human' were a dirty word he was above saying. “To steal the abilities they lack. They're blind by night.”

Marina frowned. “Maybe the band means something good.”

Scoffing, Goth said, “Such as?”

“I don't know, something special.”

“Something special. I'd be careful how much trust you put in these humans. When they banded me and Throbb they trapped us in a false jungle, and blinded us with lights, and pierced our skin with needles. I don't think they're our friends.” He stopped, seeing the distress on Shade's face.

“Maybe the bands mean something more meaningful,” Marina whispered, clutching her own, eyes downcast. The humans had been kind with her. The night they banded her they'd stroked her head gently until she wasn't afraid. Then they let her go.

“Maybe,” Goth said. “Maybe there is a different meaning to the bands. I only wish to look out for your safety, senorita Marina. Disappointment is a horrible feeling. You should be wary if you cross paths with the humans again.”

Joining Marina, Shade shook his head because there must be different sorts of humans. Good and bad.

“My elders told me the humans band us because Nocturna guided them to. As a sign of a promise so we can fly in the sun again. The bands look like the sun.”

“Hmm. How do you learn about something older than even memory?” Goth asked.

“We have Echo Chambers in our roosts where bats sing their stories and they bounce off the walls forever.”

“And you think a goddess sang this story?”

“I think so... or a bat who was there when Nocturna promised," Shade said. "The elder of my colony showed me and I trust her.”

“The Vampyrum Spectrum have no such childish stories, and we're much more relaxed for it.”

Marina dropped any pretense of friendliness, seething openly with her jaw tensed as if she were going to bite him, and afraid of further escalation Sparrow jostled her off the branch.

“So what do you we call you while you're in our northern culture? Vampirewing? Artificial-Sunwing? Maybe Rainbowwing?

“What are you, then?" Goth snapped back. "Hoarwing?”

Sparrow growled; Goth smiled. “I've seen your people in the jungle. Sometimes they go too far.”

Hissing Marina swept by, Shade on her tail.

“That Brightwing is starting to annoy me,” Goth said, glancing down at Sparrow. “Almost as much as this cynic. It looks like Shade might need help consoling her. Perhaps follow him, senorita?”

Anything to be away from their whining she thought, disappearing into the defoliating canopy.

“Let's be done with her,” Throbb hissed.

“Patience.”

A gentle swoosh of wings rowing, and then a chuckle, and their shadows passed over Sparrow as one.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha hoarwing.  
> Hoary bats are named for their fur looking like hoar frost and sometimes they do migrate quite far south.  
> Yeah that's the worst pun of my life but if I had to experience it so do all of you.
> 
> You may notice I have somewhat changed the Towers of Fire description. In the show Shade’s map looks like a nuclear plant, but when they arrive it’s just a power relay station. It would be possible for bats to mistake steam as fire, but that’s not a feature of a relay station. What does Shade see? Guess you’ll have to keep torturing yourself to find out! :D  
> There'll be less horrible puns, I swear. 
> 
> ***  
> Thank you for the kind words, guest named D! <3


	5. Night Lead Her Astray

Face set in a scowl so deep her jaw ached, Marina wove through the trees, trying to shake Shade off her tail. Goth's snide voice and Shade's adoring attention kept circling before her eyes like a mosquito that refused to buzz off.

She wanted to scream in the older bat's face until her throat was raw and his ears rang. He didn't know anything. His band wasn't bright like the sun, it was dull, tarnished. So what did he know anyway?

The pressure on her grinding teeth slipped and nearly sliced into her tongue.

He didn't even seem to take Nocturna seriously.

“What's your problem?” Shade snapped.

Marina rounded on him.

“You agree with everything Goth says. He's not as nice as you think!”

“You're just mad he told you your band isn't special,” Shade said, scowling.

“If that's true why would I even meet your colony?”

“So that's all you care about?”

All she cared about! If her muscles tensed any further she might just fall out of the sky.

“I'm going back to my island,” she said, turning away. “I wish I never wasted my time on you.”

“If that's how you feel then go!”

She didn't look back. She couldn't.

It would be a long journey home, and the last thing she wanted to remember was Shade's face as she left him behind.

***

Shade found Goth alone and curiously on the ground in a small grove not far from where they'd all spent the twilight together. Seeking any beasts that might hide among the brambles and low growing shrubs, Shade landed, nervous, behind the other bat.

“Where is Marina?”

It was time to face it. Crestfallen, Shade said, “She's decided to go back to her home.”

“Mm, we have seen owls about,” Goth said. He glanced up and Throbb poked his nose out from the spruce tree he'd comfortably nested in. “We promised to protect you. Throbb, you know the stars now. Go find Marina and escort her. It is the least we can do to repay her.”

“But-”

“Are you so ungrateful?”

Wary of riling Goth's wrath, Throbb begrudgingly took off with all the enthusiasm of a gnat.

“Have you had any success with narrowing in on your colony?”

Shade shook his head.

“Perhaps if you call up your Sound Map again we will see something new. I believe in you, Shade. You just need more confidence in your abilities.”

If only he could feel it too. Shade just couldn’t see in himself what Goth must see, and because he had just alienated his closest, his _first_ , friend his confidence was as low as ever. He closed his eyes to recall the song his mother sang, when a strange, pungent odour burned his nose.

It was so sickly sweet, almost like the rotten remains of deer that wolves sometimes left in the forest, that Shade felt his stomach turn.

Something was wrong. Something was dead and cached nearby.

Shade knew Goth was a predator, knew he killed other animals, so why couldn't Shade see it?

He swallowed, trying to push the fear away.

Shade watched Goth turn, looking up to muse at the stars.

And a wing flopped from under the leaf litter, a tattered wing fringed with splashes of brilliant pale fur. Shade threw his hands against his mouth to stifle the scream. A Brightwing! _Marina_.

What if it was her? What if she had turned back? He tried to count the passing wingbeats. She was a stronger flier, there'd been time.

“Something wrong, Shade?”

With effort Shade pulled his eyes away from the wing, afraid of Goth, afraid of whose frozen lifeless face he might see, scrunching his eyes and wobbling like he'd just flown head first into a window.

“It was too much of the Sound Map at once. I don't understand any of it,” he said. “You’re wrong, I don't have any ability. I'll be at the stream getting water.”

 

Shade flew then, slow at first to sneak out of sight without raising alarm, then lost among the trees exploded with speed, wings and heart thumping. He saw Marina, a distant outline on the horizon and Throbb on her tail.

Thank Nocturna. It wasn't Marina.

It wasn't her!

“Marina! Marina will you stop!” No way Throbb intended to escort her home safely. They had to get away. “They're ca- concerned for us and I'm sorry for getting so angry. But- but my colony is here!”

Throbb dropped his pursuit and both bats turned toward Shade.

“Your colony?”

“Yes,” Shade said smoothly, trying to appear animated. “Goth said to find you, that he wanted to plan a feast to celebrate! He sounded annoyed you didn't see them on the horizon. They're roosting now.”

“And why should I come?” Marina snapped. “You said yourself the bands are meaningless and even Sparrow said so! So what do they mean? Nothing? I don't believe it! If you do I don't want to meet this Frieda!”

Uncomfortable with Throbb's hovering presence, Shade steeled his heart.

“I do believe it. Goth is right. Why can't you see that!”

“If you feel that way go find your new friend! I told you I'm leaving!” She turned away, Shade screaming after her.

“It's dangerous to go back! Why can't you see that!”

Snorting, impatient, Throbb drifted by Shade back toward the forest without a second thought for their squabbling. When the cannibal's wings dipped under the canopy, Shade flew until his heart began to thump ever harder than he thought possible, hammering unpleasantly against his chest and pounding in throat and stomach. He couldn't catch up with her larger wings, even driven by panic. Every moment carried her further away and brought Goth closer to discovering his deception and then them if they remained out in the open.

“Marina, wait!” His voice croaked. “I'm sorry, you're right!”

“So now I'm right? You're just trying to bring me back, aren't you?”

“No, you don't understand. I saw Goth. They're cannibals!”

“ _What_?”

“You were right. They eat bats. Goth had a Brightwing- I thought, I thought it was you.”

Marina shook her head, trying to clear rushing thoughts, her own heart beginning to race.

“Where's Sparrow?”

“I don't know,” Shade cried, voice barely more than a squeak. “Somewhere in the forest.”

“We'll find her, we'll stay low and search.”

“My colony-”

“There's time for both,” she said. “Let's go.”

 

***

“I hear bats aren't receptive to being eaten. You should be more discreet,” Sparrow said, frost speckled fur invisible against a spruce's bark. Goth's ears pricked, head swiveling to locate her voice. He couldn't see her, though she was within reaching distance, staring down at him and the sad remains of a Brightwing.

He swallowed a final chunk of the dead bat's flesh, licking his teeth.

Sparrow was surprised by Shade, proud him for his self control, proud of him for the ease at which deception seemed to come to him when his life was in peril. So long as he found Marina first...

Growing louder and gaining speed, buoyant cries erupted from the forest.

“Where are the Silverwings?”

Throbb skidded to a halt on a low branch, jittering impatiently, scruffy fur even more fussed than usual.

Still hidden, Sparrow smiled.

“Shade is at the stream, getting water,” Goth said. “He overwhelmed himself with that Sound Map, the little show off. What a ridiculous way to travel.”

“But the colony-”

“How long have you been here?” Goth asked the forest coolly.

Sparrow took a moment. He'd begun to pick through the trees with his echoes and she wasn't sure she cared to be discovered.

“Longer than the Silverwing,” she said.

She felt his attention lock on her. Heard the soft trace of echoes separating her from the spruce bark.

“And where is Marina?” he snapped, teeth bared in Throbb's hapless, jittery face.

“Shade told me the Silverwings- a feast-”

“Your head is in your stomach! How could you be deceived by such an inferior species?”

As his thoughts slowly connected and Goth’s teeth closed around Throbb's muzzle, the excited shine in the smaller bat's eyes clouded with embarrassment.

“Don't misdirect your aggression,” Sparrow said, dropping into the air as she did, falling past Goth as he snapped dangerously near where she had been.

“Would you like me to direct it at you _, runt?_ ”

“I know which way they went,” Throbb sniffled.

“Will you follow them?”

“Heh. Have you both forgotten that Shade gave me his Sound Map?”

“One part,” Throbb said, quailing.

“Si. But if he doesn't come back for her, he will come back for his colony's sake,” he said. “Unless you think they don't care about your miserable presence. Towers of Fire? I wonder how an echo song sees fire. Get moving then. We're leaving.”

Unfurling his wings and lifting away from the ground, the eviscerated remains of his meal became visible, blood smeared across the wet leaf litter. A look of bewilderment remained on the Brightwing's untouched face, a young male who wouldn't have expected his life to end that day. Sparrow grimaced to think of it and she suddenly squeaked. Goth's claws sank into her neck, yanking her from the tree and away from her thoughts.

“Hurry up, Greywing girl.”

Annoyed, she wriggled free, putting Throbb between herself and Goth.

“Why did you speak? You could have gotten away after we left.”

“And be dropped on halfway to Shade's next landmark?” she asked. “I'm not worried about being eaten.”

Goth snorted.

It was true, she wasn't worried. The longer she remained with Goth the more likely it was Shade and Marina might get away safely- as long as they were sensible and focused on Shade's colony rather than Sparrow. She had confidence Marina's pragmatism might wear off onto Shade.

As the secondary benefit, there could be no opportunity to ambush them if Sparrow alerted the young bats to the cannibals' presence. Whether or not they found the Towers of Fire, she'd lead Goth and Throbb astray. Then she'd escape, fly south to find the Silverwings on her own or find the Greywings, or perhaps even return to Zephyr for the winter and rejoin them in the spring migration.

As skilled a hunter as Goth might turn out to be, try as hard as he might to capture and murder her, the winter would always come back for him. She could stash herself in a tiny rock crevasse and sleep while he starved. They couldn't wait her out through the piercing cold of sleet and snow. The simplicity amused Sparrow. They'd die from exposure or finally go home, and she'd exit torpor like any other day.

In the meantime, she kept herself above the cannibals, still wary of being attacked, eyes trained on the landscape below and the horizon far beyond seeking the faintest movement or trace of light.

Her unfortunate companions were growing impatient quickly, and just as frustration began to set in, she saw a sharp gouge in the canopy, like an ethereal claw had reached into the forest and ripped the trees asunder.

“There!” Sparrow shouted, speeding towards the ground.

“You see them?”

To Goth's surprise, Sparrow set down onto a human marker, one of the metal pillars they sunk into the earth to mark their paths. He followed impatiently, hanging awkwardly from one of its four narrow branches. His echoes swept the area for Shade and Marina, but they were alone with nothing but moonlight reflecting off the packed gravel.

Throbb dropped beside him, whining about the cold on his feet before pretending to inspect the road, scooping gravel into his wings for amusement and snapping up the occasional moth.

“Why are we here?”

“You know what it is?” Sparrow asked.

“A human sign? What is your point?”

“They say the directions of the roads and they're very readable,” Sparrow said, tapping on the closest plaque. “That snake shape means South, which means this path runs North and South.” Shuffling to the opposite side, she tapped again. “These upside down ears mean West, so the path-”

“Runs West and East. Get to the point.”

“When you cannot read the stars, you can follow the human roads. Polaris,” she said, pointing to the stars, “Hardly moves. It is always north. It is the only star you need to know here. If you lose it, it's easy to find. It is part of the Little Bear. The seventh star, its head.”

“I told you when we met, we don't know these stars. They do not exist for us.”

Sparrow thought for awhile, despite Goth's impatience and Throbb's restless whining.

“If Polaris disappears it'll take you seasons to get home.”

“You're too interested in these human things. If I want simple directions the moon is enough.” He paused, claws drumming thoughtfully on the plaque, a faint ting of metal singing. “What are the Towers of Fire? Are they human things?”

“Isn't the name enough?” she asked, serene. He snapped a finger, and Throbb lunged forward, pulling her off the sign and shaking her until she relented. “You're so impatient! It sounds human.”

“We're crossing that scum again,” Goth said. “What if the ones who caught us- ”

“Only humans have fire,” Throbb said.

“I think it's a flare stack,” Sparrow said, gnawing at Throbb's toes until he yelped. “The place will look like the city we came through, but it won't stretch as far. It'll be all lights.”

***

After some thought about the human connection, Goth decided to give the human road safe distance yet keep an eyes on its direction in the event it lead to the flare stack... whatever that was. Soon a cut line began to follow the road, for quite a distance, so they decided to fly directly over it and lower to avoid detection. Halfway into the night, Throbb began to laugh, bouncing in flight.

“Those are towers with lights!” he said, pointing at the blinking red lamps on power lines.

“There aren't the human buildings... or the stench. Still, could this be what the map referred to?”

“This isn't fire,” Sparrow said.

“The runt's young, how do we know what he saw?”

“This isn't fire,” she repeated.

“If we can't find the towers, maybe we'll just use your Sound Map, no?”

Sparrow laughed. “We go much further south. The direction you should be headed now. Forget about the Silverwings while you still have time and energy to make the journey.”

Throbb stole a hopeful look at her and then a discreet look at Goth, measuring his reaction. The association with warmth, finally escaping waking at twilight to find frost creeping over the edge of cave mouths.

“What a weak attempt; this is south. So if on the way to our beautiful jungle we make a stop or two, I see no difference. You see?” Goth said, pointing to a bright glow on the horizon. “Zotz helps those who help themselves. Hmm, I hear chattering. The colony?”

He slipped into the trees with Throbb, Sparrow warily following. Her ears were tense. Something felt off about those voices. Primarily female, they were thin and occasionally crackled, like their vocal chords were old and inflamed and mixed with the hum of mosquitoes. Most of all, it was eerie to hear so many voices this late into the night. A nursery colony would be resting after a hunt, cozy in caverns and hollows, huddling with their mothers and sisters and children.

And half of them would die, she realized. They'd have no warning. They wouldn't understand.

Crossing over a narrow river, the eerie voices carried above the soft trickle and lapse of water.

No wing beats, Sparrow realized.

Then she saw the pillar.

“Goth, stop!”

Sparrow dove to cut in front of him and he veered to avoid a collision. But she couldn't change direction so fast and plunged into the silky fibers of a colossal net, tumbling helplessly into its threads and folds.

Goth stared at her in alarm looking like she'd been disfigured in midair, suspended across the water. He flew in tight circles, afraid to get too close to whatever invisible barrier held her.

He could see it, but only just. A shadow of distortion in his returning echoes.

"How did you see it?"

"The poles,” Sparrow hissed, pressing against the net in the hope she could push herself free of it, but it tangled around her fingers, squishing them together. She pointed left with her chin. “The fake voices from that box. They string them above water like this."

Glancing left, Goth saw the pillar like a single smooth trunk. He flew to its edge, clinging with a safe distance between himself and the grasping strands. Like a bank of fog, they stretched far across the river and well into its muddy shores. Faint, regularly spaced pockmarks followed the shore before disappearing into the undergrowth. The familiar foot prints of humans.

The barrier billowed in the gentle wind, as if eager to snatch him too, and at the other corner something else hung, motionless, or exhausted, or dead. A little chickadee.

He hadn't thought his disgust of humans had any capacity to increase. He thought it had reached its limits, that he'd seen all there was to know in the false jungle. Just how many traps were their conniving minds capable of inventing?

How long did they have until the humans came then? Soon? Morning? Not that he especially cared what happened to the Greywing, but it could have been him trying to tear himself free.

Perhaps, though, the horrible creatures could be useful to him.

"Help me find the Silverwings and I'll try to free you,” he said.

"Choke yourself."

"Your choice."

"I will not do this evil thing."

Of course she wouldn't. No sense of self preservation at all. Absolutely stupid, in his opinion.

"They will stick needles in you, and poison you so you sleep," Goth said viciously. "And take you to a tiny forest where the trees aren't real."

Lights glared and flashed among the foliage. The muscles of his shoulders and chest tensed as he readied himself to speed off.

"Don't leave me!" she screamed.

"Thank you for sacrificing yourself, senorita. Farewell. Throbb, let's go."

"You're not heartless!"

Goth paused, smiled.

"You're right. But I intend to survive this winter. At whose cost doesn't matter to me."

Besides, there was so much threading around her wings now, he probably couldn't free her anyway.

"Throbb-" she began.

"They're taking their time, aren't they?" he mocked, glancing towards the lights.

"Prince of nothing! You will never survive this winter. You will never make it home to your people. Every day will get shorter. Every night will get colder. Far colder than you understand. You will never survive in the Silverwing's Hibernaculum. They will wake, and fight, and they will starve for it. And you will die, very small, very alone on the snow."

“Think you're a prophet?” He laughed. “I wouldn't think the Lasiurus would bother with inferior species.”

“That’s a southern name, is it? Greywing does me just fine.”

Goth suddenly dropped, snatching Throbb down with him. The humans must have heard the haunting call too, their lights illuminating a group of owls that far exceeded their usual numbers; twenty birds flying in an arrow like formation.

“I am tired of these birds thinking they own the skies. Why are they flying like that?”

“It seems you've started a war,” Sparrow said. “They're patrolling closed skies, remember?”

“I'd be honoured if it didn't inconvenience me.”

“Children are the only ones pleased by that thought.”

“I'm not the one burning nursery roosts, am I? Shade's colony made their grave the moment their little mouse decided his curiosity was worth more than their lives. If eating a few runty birds has added fuel to their fire, what is that to me? It's _you_ who are unnatural.”

“That's a child's answer,” she said.

Goth's eyes narrowed, but he looked away from her to watch the patrol until it passed well beyond reasonable threat, releasing a very squished Throbb, who coughed and sputtered while he crawled away.

“It really grates on you,” Sparrow said. “The thought of being inferior even if someone who means nothing thinks it.”

“Your opinion of me means less than nothing. I am happy with my place in life. It's sad that you've never managed to find your own before it's all destroyed.”

Sparrow ignored him, studying the threads that held her, testing if she could move them individually.

“Help me with Shade and I promise I'll never let anything harm you.”

“No.”

“And Marina? We will find them. And I will rip her guts out if you'd rather have that.”

“There is nothing that I can do to change what Shade has seen.”

“I'm not a threat to his colony.”

“Hah! ‘Hey Shade, I know you watched him eviscerate a Brightwing but that's no problem. He only eats stragglers, you see. No ulterior motives in meeting your colony whatsoever!’ So _believable_! What are your motives then, when you know Shade will never trust you, when you know the Silverwings will fight you? None of these problems will go away at Hiberaculum. Let me help you with the cold. You must go south now. There is nothing but death for you here.”

“I intend to go home, Greywing girl. It just won't be alone. The threat here is the owls, not me. It's unnatural. Why would Cama Zotz want this for them?”

He wouldn't, she thought, catching on. But bring the Silverwings to the jungle? What solution was that? It was almost as ludicrous as the Vampyrum Spectrum traveling to the Northern Forest. Still, her own species sometimes made the journey there and back countless times in a single lifetime.

The Silverwings wouldn't be free, exchanging one oppressor for another.

The idea was insane, but perhaps not so ludicrous that a child would see that. What if Shade accepted Goth's habits as natural? Certainly it was natural in the south. It wouldn't be an unreasonable point to argue. What if Shade thought that trusting Goth would help save his colony was worth the risk?That there really was no other way to escape the owls' tyranny?

“I will not do this evil thing,” she snarled, voice rising above the humans' recording. “Leave! If you can't see sense _then_ _leave_!”

And they could hear the humans' own chattering now, animated and carefree and unpredictable.

All her plans, all her hopes were fading to wisps before her eyes. If they weren't kind like the humans Marina had encountered how could she ever get away? Their headlamps drew closer and closer, their feet loud on the forest floor, twigs snapping, leaves rolling in waves before their powerful footsteps.

Sobbing with panic and anger Sparrow screamed. “ _Leave!_ ”

“You've got to sort your priorities out,” Goth said, opening his wings.

“Your wings will freeze off before you make the trip! It isn't me whose life will be destroyed. That is the future that carries you!”

He paused. The thought of the cold was unnerving.

“Why are you so concerned for the little bats? Hurry up. Running out of time.”

“Night leads me astray.”

“What a non-answer! Stay useful, Greywing girl,” he said, turning to Throbb. “Go and harass those worthless carcasses.”

“But- but what if they have darts?”

“Figure it out before I bite you.”

“Well, here's hoping this doesn't fall the wrong way and strangle you,” he said, settling on the pillar again and biting into the net. The threads snapped, relaxed, and Sparrow burst out of it.

She pressed herself into the rough bark of the nearest tree, gasping, wild eyes fixed ahead onto nothing.

“That's done,” Goth said, listening to Throbb shrieking in the distance. “Who's hungry?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to the blessed people who are reading this life got WeirdTM. The plight of all fan fic writers. and also bless you for your kind comments!
> 
> the net she was in is called a mist net. it is likely what marina would have been caught in, despite saying she was in a net similar to what they find orestes trapped in. in the real world, goth being able to free sparrow is basically impossible and he probably would end up trapped himself... lol on that.
> 
> why does sparrow care about the little bats? perhaps because they're just teenagers and she has empathy, goth, you idiot! 
> 
> ONWARD TO THE TOWERS and to another poor soul caught in a human trap this particular bit of forest is clearly riddled with. it's the journey that counts. :D


End file.
